


The first hurdle

by ChocoNut



Series: Wooing his wench [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Banter, Diverges after 4x1, F/M, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Wooing, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25186738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: Tywin Lannister arranges a marriage meet at the Red Keep.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Wooing his wench [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1825348
Comments: 10
Kudos: 108





	The first hurdle

**Author's Note:**

> Fluffy fluff that came to my mind an hour back. Enjoy :)

Brienne had never been this bored to death before. “What purpose is a gathering like this going to serve?” 

“Matchmaking,” Jaime pointlessly pointed out what she could clearly see. “It is for the lords and ladies from all over the kingdoms to come together,” he explained further, taking a swig of his wine, “to meet and talk about their likes and dislikes, to woo, to be wooed--”

“Then why the hell have I been invited?” Ever since she’d received the royal invitation, she had the doubt that it had landed at her doorstep by mistake. The servant boy had not said who, in particular, it was from. Why would Cersei or anyone else in the family bother to include her? More than that, which lord would want to get to know _her_ when they had so many accomplished and socially acceptable women to choose from? Why would anyone with a decent pair of eyes want to woo her?

Jaime shrugged. “Perhaps my father thought it necessary for all noblewomen to be present.”

Though unsatisfied with the reply, Brienne returned to her drink, for it didn’t make sense to press further. Now that she had survived this long, all she had to do was grit her teeth and pass the rest of the time.

And put up with her annoying companion who refused to leave her side.

“Tell me, my lady,” he started again, not allowing her more than a minute of quiet. “What do you think about the men that have gathered?” Sidling up to her, he peered into her eyes, stirring something within the depths of her. “Do you find anyone to your liking?”

She looked away from him and into the crowd, painfully aware of what his piercing gaze was doing to her. “I’m not the marrying kind.”

His brows went up, as if in doubt. “Not even after you return Sansa to her family?”

She could feel her eyes on him. And a gnawing sensation that wouldn’t go away. “No.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, exhaling heavily into his goblet. “Interesting.”

Ignoring her discomfort, she rounded on him. “What’s so interesting?”

“Nothing, my lady--”

“Are you mocking me?” For some reason, she wanted to confront him, to distract him from the sea of beautiful women, most of whom had their attention on none but him, to be chosen and wooed by him, a dream she could see in their eyes. “I’m sure you think I’m a mis-fit here, someone who none of the well-bred lords and knights would bother sparing a second look at--”

“I’m not mocking you, Brienne.” He sounded irked by her accusation. “And I never said even once--”

“My apologies,” she mumbled, abashed at jumping into a drastic conclusion. “I thought--”

“What did you think?”

“Nothing,” she replied in the same vein as him.

They went back to drinking and observing the others, but Jaime made no attempt to put some distance between them. Still painfully close, he stood, and Brienne could feel her heart pounding loudly. If this went on, if he continued standing beside her for the rest of the evening--

Making herself scarce was the only solution. “I must really go back now--”

“Look over there, wench,” he said, ignoring her wish to leave. “You see that lad standing by that table?” He gestured to a young man across the hall, wistfully eying one of the prettiest girls around. “He’s had an eye on her for months. An evening like this presents him with the perfect opportunity to seek her out and express himself, to woo her and make her his wife.”

Disinterested in the tales of others, Brienne stifled a yawn, letting this useless piece of information bounce off her brain.

“And you see that young maiden there?” This time, his eyes were on a timid girl standing aloof from the rest of her giggling companions. “She is in love with one of our bannermen--” he looked around “--ah, there, that young fellow who’s on his third helping of wine, drinking away and pondering, wondering about the best way to approach the woman of his dreams.”

She’d had enough of this. “Ser Jaime--”

“And do you notice that couple there, Brienne?” he went on, blissfully oblivious of her boredom. She followed his gaze to a contented-looking couple at the other end of the room. “He has just asked her to marry him. See that rose in her hand--”

“I’m sure your father has arranged this meet for a purpose,” she couldn’t help cutting across, anxious that any moment some beauty might swoon in his arms, or worse still, he might be forced to present a rose to one of these dainty young women half his age. “Is it not?”

A trace of seriousness vied for space in his eyes beside the playfulness in them. “My father does seem to have his ulterior motives, yes.”

“Aren’t you then supposed to be mixing with the ladies gathered here for your careful consideration?” she barked, eyeing the women around her with irritation. She had come across rumours floating around that Tywin Lannister was taking all the effort he could to convince his son to find himself a wife. And try as she might, Brienne couldn’t ward off the pangs of jealousy she was feeling. “Go in there and woo the one to your liking.” She sounded bitter and she didn’t like it. But she could do nothing about it. “What are you doing here in this dark corner with an ugly wench like me?”

“Exactly what my father wants me to.” Tearing her attention off the hall, she turned to him, struggling to make sense of his words. “Making sure this meet serves its purpose, my lady.”

Brienne felt all the blood rush to her face. This couldn’t be happening. Yet… yet it felt real. It… He was joking, surely, his twinkling eyes, the charming smile… they were all a...

“Ser Jaime,” she yelped, when he reached down and grabbed her hand. “What are you--”

“Obeying your command, my lady,” He slid closer, his eyes on hers, his thumb, caressing her knuckles. “Wooing the one to my liking, the one I wish to wed.”

“Let go of my hand,” she ordered him, gritting her teeth. “Let me--”

“On one condition.” Nudging his face to hers, he breathed into her ear, “Meet me in the gardens in some time, Brienne. There’s so much we need to talk about. Promise me you’ll come--”

“Yes, I will,” she grunted in a hurry, and he withdrew, her hand, though, still in his custody. 

“I’ll take your leave now.” Bringing her hand to his lips, he pressed a kiss to her fingers before letting go of her. “See you in a while, wench. And do make haste. It isn’t appropriate for a wife to keep her lord husband waiting.”

Relieved that her hand was free, at last, she nodded absentmindedly, only realizing what he’d just said after he was gone a couple of paces. “Wait-- _lord husband_?”

He retraced his steps back to her. “Of course.” His eyes bore not mockery nor sarcasm, but a new-found excitement that shot straight into her. “Didn’t you just consent to my proposal?”

Brienne was beginning to find herself on the losing side of a battle. “I only agreed to meeting you outside. I didn’t say anything about an alliance--”

“You haven’t agreed _yet_ ,” he corrected her, attacking her with a winning smile. “Wooing is an elaborate process, my lady. A pleasurable journey. It takes one patient step at a time.” 

He suddenly closed in on her again, leaving her with nowhere to go, and she backed up against the table, trapped, wanting to stay there and push him away at the same time. He said no more, but held her in the enchanting imprisonment of his gaze. Whether eyes were truly the windows to one’s heart and soul, she knew not, but in his, she could see confidence, a thirst for love and affection and… 

_Herself..._

“Now that I’ve sailed past the first hurdle--” he glanced down at her trembling lips, his chest rising and falling at a pace, unusual “--I’m sure I’ll succeed with the rest, my Lady Brienne.”

With that, he was gone. And Brienne was left staring at the entrance for a while, trying to come to terms with what had just happened. Then, smiling to herself, she followed him outside. Resisting him was going to be very very difficult.

Not that she wanted to, of course.


End file.
